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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753450">i don't know you(but i want you)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_chaotic_lesbian/pseuds/the_chaotic_lesbian'>the_chaotic_lesbian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>requests [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Falling In Love, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Cindered Shadows DLC Spoilers, Fluff, Insomnia, Love Confessions, M/M, library dates, slight spoilers for</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:20:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,842</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_chaotic_lesbian/pseuds/the_chaotic_lesbian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Truth be told, Ashe doesn’t know if he wants to meet Linhardt. He doesn’t know much about the other, but Annette had a rough encounter with him the other day, and seeing her upset was… a weird sight. </p><p>But he likes Caspar, and he likes Caspar enough to allow him to drag him off towards the first floor dorms, further up than Ashe’s own. </p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>Befriending Caspar wasn't in Ashe's monastery plans. Neither was falling in love with his best friend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Linhardt von Hevring, Caspar von Bergliez &amp; Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>requests [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898806</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i don't know you(but i want you)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A commission for my lovely friend Finch! this took me SO long but I love them so much... I hope you all enjoy! </p><p>title is from "falling slowly" by glen hansard</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ashe hadn’t expected to make any friends outside of his class. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He supposes he had underestimated Caspar’s power. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, they had fought and fought the first time they met. Caspar’s all about justice, honesty above all, and at first the way he had spoken made Ashe’s blood coil. After all, if it were up to him, Ashe would be dead: killed for the simple crime of trying to care for his siblings. What kind of justice is that? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Ashe couldn’t keep his animosity for long. Caspar wormed his way into his heart, and within a couple of months, they were taking meals together and hanging out outside of class. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He enjoys this friendship. He enjoys it a lot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yet, whenever Caspar mentions introducing him to Linhardt, he’s more than a little skeptical. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Linhardt?” Ashe frowns, picking at his food with a fork, “he’s in your class, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>only </span>
  </em>
  <span>in my class,” Caspar affirms, eyes wide and bright, “he’s my best friend! We practically grew up together.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. That’s… neat!” Ashe tries to think about what it would be like to have a childhood friend, and fails. The closest person he can think of is Christophe, and he’s… well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caspar jumps to his feet, having finished off his plate a while ago. “Come on,” he says, bouncing on his feet with a restless energy that Ashe has always admired, “I should bring him food anyways. I haven’t seen him in the dining hall at all today…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Truth be told, Ashe doesn’t know if he wants to meet Linhardt. He doesn’t know much about the other, but Annette had a rough encounter with him the other day, and seeing her upset was… a weird sight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he likes Caspar, and he likes Caspar enough to allow him to drag him off towards the first floor dorms, further up than Ashe’s own. He doesn’t knock, just slams the door open, revealing a messy room scattered with books and littered with papers. Ashe wrinkles his nose at the mess, but he hardly has the chance to say something about it when Caspar’s tiptoeing through the mess, towards a desk that has the figure of a person leaning over it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lin!” Caspar gets to the desk, and then promptly tilts the chair backwards. It doesn’t fall, but it comes fairly close, and Linhardt snaps upwards, eyes wide. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Caspar,” he says, like he’s out of breath, sucking in air, “what time is it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s past dinner, again.” Caspar sets the plate of sweet buns down on the desk, and Ashe watches as Linhardt’s lips curl upwards at the sight. “Come on, Lin, you told me you’d try harder to make dinner.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you’d notice.” And then Linhardt finally notices Ashe, and his head tilts to the side, eyes half-lidded with… something. “You must be Ashe. Caspar’s… friend.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s something in his voice, too. Jealousy maybe? Ashe can’t quite tell, just that he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it one bit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still, he smiles, keeping his voice light. “Yes, that’s me! It’s nice to finally meet you, Linhardt. Caspar’s spoken quite fondly of you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caspar’s watching the exchange with bright eyes and an ecstatic smile, like he’s so grateful that his friends are getting along, and Ashe doesn’t want to ruin that. He likes Caspar, he’s not about to watch that smile fall just because he… he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>his other best friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.” Linhardt studies him for a moment longer before turning away, and that’s as much of a rejection as Ashe had been expecting. This was going to be interesting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ashe tosses and turns for hours before he finally accepts defeat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It hasn’t been that long since he’d been below the monastery, reuniting with a friend he thought lost to him forever - and what a shock it had been, to see Yuri once again - and locked in a conflict he certainly hadn’t expected whenever he wandered into the courtyard that fateful night. It was… almost traumatic, in a way, and now he can’t stop thinking about it. The intensity of the battles. The blood ritual. The terrifying monster. It was just… too much for him to handle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yes, Ashe isn’t sleeping tonight. So what can he do? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He debates with himself for a minute, and then stands. Reading has always soothed him, and he can spend hours upon hours delving into stories about places far greater than the one he’s in and people far braver than he is. It’s comforting, in a way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s never been into the library at night before, though, and he blinks whenever he enters. Soft candlelight glows from one of the desks, revealing a slender figure that he immediately recognizes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Linhardt?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Linhardt glances up from whatever it is that he’s reading, tilts his head. His hair is loose from its normal tail and instead spills around his shoulders, messy and uneven. “Oh hello, Ashe,” he says, in a dull voice like he’s been awake for hours. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s so late,” Ashe comments, aware of just how hypocritical he sounds as he slides into a seat opposite of Linhardt, a book in his arms. “Surely that candlelight can’t be good for your eyes.” </span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh,” Linhardt shrugs, “I could say the same to you.” He glances up, blinks. “But if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk right now.” </span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s struggling with this, too, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ashe realizes, watching the candlelight reflect in those dark blue eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He was there in those tunnels too. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And maybe the mutual camaraderie is just what they needed, after the disaster of a meeting last time. Linhardt’s deep into his books, whatever it is he might be reading, and Ashe spends far too long watching the way he looks against the flame of the candle, dark and radiant at the same time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Joining the black eagles was the easiest thing that Ashe has ever done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt so natural. He had been so… so hurt and bitter whenever the church had Lonato executed. Dimitri had done nothing but offer condolences. However, Caspar had promised that fighting for Edelgard would be the best decision he’s ever made, and upon speaking to the house leader, he’s inclined to believe that himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it’s so easy. Caspar introduces him to the other black eagles with fond eyes and a bright smile, and it’s so obvious that he enjoys it here. Edelgard is as regal as he remembers her from Abyss, offering him a proud look and a motherly smile. Ferdinand seems… over the top, but he immediately offers to garden with Ashe if he would like company. Hubert doesn’t trust him, but after a full decade of reading people off the streets, he can tell that the older man’s intentions are meaningful - towards Edelgard, at least. Bernadetta is sweet, if very painfully shy, and Ashe intends to bring her flowers someday. Petra and Dorothea both coo over him, and for once, Ashe feels like he </span>
  <em>
    <span>belongs. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then there’s Linhardt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Linhardt, who reads with him at night. They hardly ever talk during these meetings, but they’re frequent enough that maybe Ashe should be asking questions about it, about the way Linhardt always has candles ready, an extra chair pulled up at his side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you think about… all of this?” Linhardt asks one night, when they’ve both been sitting already for awhile. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ashe blinks. “All of what, exactly?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh you know,” he waves his hands vaguely to the side, as if gesturing to the empty library, “an entire underground city that nobody but a select few is aware of. The secrets that the church is keeping. It’s all so interesting, don’t you think?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I don’t know.” Ashe stares down at his book, stomach churning. “It’s strange, certainly, but I haven’t really been thinking much of it. Why?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can feel those intense blue eyes studying him, perhaps judging him for an answer he hadn’t given. He quite likes those eyes, but he still shivers at the intensity of the gaze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nevermind.” There’s silence for a minute, maybe two minutes, and for a second Ashe believes that the conversation is over. After all, they normally sit in silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Say Ashe.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or maybe the conversation isn’t over after all. Ashe sighs, glances back up with a tired smile on his face. “Yes, Linhardt?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Linhardt is still staring at him, this time with a look of curiosity and something else that Ashe can’t quite decipher. “What is it you are always reading? I must say, I’m curious.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Ashe’s smile turns a touch more genuine, and he glances down at his book, cheeks flushing red. “It’s just some story about a knight. I don’t think you’d be very interested in it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” Linhardt bends over, lazily reaching for the book, and like a fool, Ashe lets him. He doesn’t lose Ashe’s place in the book, just flips it over to examine the cover, the title printed along the spine. “Interesting…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you? Interested, I mean.” Ashe takes a deep breath, prepares himself for rejection. “I could recommend some stories to you, if you’d like?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Linhardt doesn’t reject him. In fact, he smiles, something soft and serene and wholly unlike Linhardt. “I would like that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the entire five years it has been, throughout the entire war, Ashe is thoroughly embarrassed to realize that the most daunting thing to him right now is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>crush. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A crush. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has a </span>
  <em>
    <span>crush. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see why you’re freaking out like this,” Caspar says, frowning as he sifts through the rubble. They’ve been assigned clean-up duty, which is just fine really, it gives Ashe plenty of time to think. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not freaking out!” Ashe argues, and then takes a deep breath. His face is all flushed, and he can’t tell if it’s from the heavy lifting or from the direction his thoughts have been taking him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude, you’re totally freaking out. I mean, listen to yourself! You’re all… worked up.” Caspar gestures to him vaguely, and in the process, drops a chunk of rock he had just picked up onto his foot. “Ow! Shit!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Caspar!” Ashe jumps forward to grab Caspar’s arm before he stops hopping around like a maniac, steadying him. “Are you alright? Do I need to take you to Linhardt?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caspar makes a face. He doesn’t look like he’s in pain, just annoyed, even as he gingerly touches his foot to the ground and winces. “Nah, no need to bother him. It’s fine, see?” He plants his foot on the ground, wincing again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Ashe bites at his lip, still holding on to Caspar’s arm. “It could be injured pretty bad, we should go see Linhardt.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Caspar shakes his head. “Lin’s going through too much right now. I already feel bad for making him heal me during battle, you know he hates it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose that’s true… he hates blood, doesn’t he?” Ashe sighs. “But this isn’t bloody, and I’m sure he’d like to not have to feed you if you’ve broken your foot.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caspar squints at him. It’s a weird expression to see on his face, he’s not normally so… well, observant. However, now he stares and stares and Ashe fidgets underneath that gaze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You just want to see Linhardt,” he says, blinking, his head tilted. “Why do you wanna see Linhardt so badly?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Ashe flushes a deep crimson at the accusation, and for a moment he doesn’t know if it’s better to deny the claim or agree with it. “I suppose I like his company.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You like his company.” Caspar actually laughs. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughs! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ashe can feel his own bitter indignation bubbling up in him at the sound. “You like him! You like Linhardt!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not so loud!” Ashe’s blush surely must be reaching his ears by now. His cheeks are burning in embarrassment. “Caspar really, please.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Caspar smiles sheepishly, “I just think it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>funny, cause he totally likes you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude, he was reading </span>
  <em>
    <span>fiction </span>
  </em>
  <span>the other day. Fiction!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Ashe rubs the back of his neck, releasing Caspar’s arm in the process. “I recommended some of my favorite books to him, and I guess he liked them?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caspar snorts. “Linhardt doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>read </span>
  </em>
  <span>fiction. He wouldn’t even read children’s books to me when we were kids. Which means he’s doing it because he likes you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ashe doesn’t know what to say to that. He opens his mouth to answer and absolutely nothing comes out. By the goddess, this is embarrassing. He never expected to get romantic advice from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Caspar</span>
  </em>
  <span>, of all people. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so he… he likes me.” Ashe takes a deep breath, calming himself. “You know him better than anyone, Caspar. What should I do?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just talk to him!” Caspar’s hobbling around on his foot, which is probably injured and they really should probably do something about it. “Lin likes direct action. You just gotta tell him how you feel! Simple as that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Ashe swallows, “simple as that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh hello, Ashe.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ashe had spent far too long trying - and failing - to track down Linhardt, and yet here he is, sitting at the fishing pond, his boots propped up on the dock beside him and toes grazing the water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Linhardt,” he greets, sliding down on the dock. “Mind if I join you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not at all.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great.” Ashe stares down at the water, if only because it’s so much easier than gazing at Linhardt. Linhardt, who has ditched the teal robes he normally wears, leaving only a white shirt and teal pants that he’s rolled up to the knee, his feet in the water. It’s intimately casual, and Ashe suddenly feels overdressed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is something the matter?” Linhardt is staring at him anyways. Ashe flicks his gaze upwards to meet those dark blue eyes, and he swallows, glancing away again. At this time of night, Linhardt’s eyes match the water, and so watching the waves ripple does nothing to help the swell of feelings in his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nevermind that he’s supposed to be confessing tonight anyways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing really,” he says, with an awkward little smile. “It’s a beautiful night though, don’t you think?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” And Linhardt is still staring at him. Ashe drags his gaze back to the side to meet that stare, even if he can’t hold it for long without getting embarrassed. “Beautiful.” Linhardt has an odd little smile on his face, one that Ashe can’t read. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So… what are you doing out here anyways?” This is so awkward. Ashe keeps a friendly casual smile on his face anyways, hoping that he’s not making a complete fool of himself. </span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some nights, I just like to feel the fresh air.” Linhardt yawns, stretching his arms over his head. “The water reminds me of playing along the beaches of Hevring in my childhood. No responsibilities, no duty, certainly no fighting, just months and months of bliss, happily playing in the water.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know Hevring had beaches.” Ashe will admit, he’s never been the best at geography, and certainly not the geopolitical climate of Adrestria. He’ll have to remedy that now, he reminds himself, considering once this war is over, he’ll have territory and be expected to play lord. It’s an awful lot of responsibility, but he doesn’t really mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” Linhardt yawns again, and then he’s flopping sideways, leaning against Ashe’s side. His head comes to rest against Ashe’s shoulder, and Ashe squeaks in surprise. “I could take you there one day. The southern coast in Hevring is one of the best coastlines in Adrestia. And all of Fodlan, I suppose.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That sounds wonderful, Linhardt.” Ashe pauses, and then tentatively wraps an arm around Linhardt’s waist. It earns him a sleepy noise of content, and Linhardt presses a little bit closer, his hair tickling Ashe’s neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sit like this in silence for awhile, watching the night sky, before Ashe summons his courage. “Lin?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Caspar says you like me.” </span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh did he now?” Linhardt laughs, but his face is hidden, so Ashe can’t tell how he feels. “You know he’s usually wrong about a lot of things.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...oh.” Ashe isn’t upset. He’s not! Even if something squeezes inside of his chest, something bitter and resentful and aching. He didn’t know heartbreak could feel like this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But,” Linhardt shifts so that he can stare up at Ashe again. His hair is down from its usual bun, spilling softly over his shoulders and framing his face. At this proximity, they’re so close, Ashe can feel his breath against his neck. “I suppose he’s right just this once.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh. What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Linhardt reaches one hand to snake around Ashe’s neck, fingers curling into his hair, and he smiles. “I’m not repeating myself.” His fingers press at Ashe’s neck, like he’s asking for permission. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ashe shifts enough so that he can tentatively press his hand against Linhardt’s cheek, cupping the soft skin. “Okay then. Well. I like you too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Took you long enough to pick up on it.” And then Linhardt’s dragging him down in a kiss, his hand twisting into his hair. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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